


Till Midnight

by stories_in_my_head



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cinderella - Freeform, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, FinnRey-ish?, I'm a Crack Shot, Make that Sin-derella, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Squint really hard for the A/B/O elements, Tags May Change, a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stories_in_my_head/pseuds/stories_in_my_head
Summary: Two lonely friends gatecrash the event of the year. Rey and her best friend Finn enjoy all the delights the party has to offer.As the midnight hour approaches, Rey unexpectedly makes a dark, exhilarating connection.But like the tales of old, magic is always on borrowed time. Can Rey and Finn leave the ball before the spell breaks and their secrets revealed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to albastargazer for cheering me on. You've been such a huge supporter to reylo writers and so generous with your time. To dark-and-terrible, thank you for your invaluable help. To Lilia_ula, gurl thank you for your feedback and for the friendship. I owe you massive bottles of vino. To PastelWonder, thank you for being a light and showing the Dark.
> 
> To The Writing Den - you continue to inspire. 
> 
> And for anerdslife4me, you believed in me, I hope I can make good of it.

“How's the dress?” Rey pestered Finn the instant they alighted from their hired transportation.  Her faintly trembling hands chased phantom creases on the straps and over the expanse of her gown.  She was high strung and skittish throughout their ride to the venue; babbling random nonsense and asking Finn the same question about her attire.

“How many times do I have to tell you it's still in one piece?” He retorted.  Unsatisfied, Rey fiddled with the dress and started to rub a clammy hand over the front of her bodice.  Before she could do more harm than good on the delicate clothing, Finn sighed and motioned for Rey to twirl. An impatient sound escaped her lips as she did a pirouette, offering him an opportunity to ogle her gown.

Finn did ogle his fill, a look of appreciation on his masked face. He had seen Rey wear hand-me-downs, charity shop finds, hospital scrubs, and the occasional high street fashion. Years of itinerant travelling meant that the clothes in her spare wardrobe were versatile and sensible, value over brand new. But the instant Finn chanced to see a photo of her decked out in that knock-out of a dress, he knew what needed to happen. He envisioned with his mind’s eye that with the right makeup and styling Rey would be the embodiment of glamour; this became the spark that lit the fire to this insane scheme.

The gown hailed from a promising designer but had been rejected on sight by the daughter of Rey’s well-heeled client. She’d ordered her stylist to return the dress “with regrets” and chose to wear a gown from an established label. Before the stylist could return the dress, Rey had asked if she could try it on a whim. She’d emerged from the dressing room positively dazzling as the gown clung to the dips and curves of her body, hugging her like second skin.

The sleeveless dress was fashioned from metallic chiffon; silver thread and sequins wove themselves artfully through the entirety of the gown, giving heft to the diaphanous material. The bodice wrapped sinfully low, creating a deep V-neckline that lovingly framed the creamy, gentle slopes of her breasts. Long fringes streamed like veins of sterling around her toned, bare arms. The gown dipped dramatically at the back, plunging and resting at the junction where her backside ended and her pert buttocks began. Spaghetti straps of identical chiffon gathered everything together; the narrow straps provided an unobstructed view of the graceful arch of her back. The gown emphasised her trim waist and the carnal flare of her hips, adding insult to injury with a precariously high-cut slit that allowed for devious peeks at her lightly-tanned thigh.

It was exquisitely made and designed to leave a lasting impression. What better way to impress than to wear it to the red-carpet event of the year?

Rey’s brows furrowed beneath her silver filigree mask. “Well? Speak, man! Did I turn out okay?” Finn’s tongue was stuck at the roof of his mouth as he continued to regard her appearance. Her shoulder-length chestnut hair was twisted in a loose chignon and crowned by a wreath of tiny silver laurel leaves. No ornament or jewelry adorned her smooth, slender neck. To atone for the lack of a necklace, matching three-tier drop earrings of coloured gemstones were fastened on the globes of her ears. The brilliant stones were set in the shape of spring flowers and cherub wings, the dangling design softening the edges of her jawline. Their delicate sway accented the delicious detail of the absence of a mark, scratch or bruise on Rey’s neck and shoulders. A small metallic clutch to hold her essentials completed her look.

Finn cannot remember a time when Rey was this phenomenal.  There was no trace of the gangly waif from the foster care system or the calm, competent health care worker. The woman before him was styled to perfection and graced by a designer gown that fit like a dream. It did not hurt that the gown exposed areas of Rey's body where her scent pulsed the strongest. As the night wore on, her natural fragrance would come to the fore.  Waxing poetic, Finn compared her to a bud, waiting for the pale light of the moon to bloom and exude her sweet perfume.

With her physical allure and her own distinct aura on center stage, Rey was a feast for the senses.  Any compliment would sound trite and empty; he simply winked and wolf-whistled in response.

“Bollocks, you’re such a flirt,” Rey protested, a becoming blush stained her cheeks. Finn knew his words hit home; Rey never swore unless nervous or flustered. He opened his mouth to reply but a racket from the opposite side drew their attention. Finn saw that it was a slew of press photographers caged within a small square booth.  Well ingrained instincts and self preservation caused them to turn and bow their heads away.

He tugged her hand, guiding them away from the glare of the cameras. “We need to hustle, Peanut. Don't want them catching on to us.“

One persistent photographer, a tall, greasy-haired photographer cajoled, “Show DJ a nice, s-sexy smile!” They wrinkled their noses with the over-familiarity and refused to give him a shot of their profiles.

With their heads bowed, Rey and Finn hastened away from the booth.  More cat calls from other photographers clamored for more of their faces, demanded more displays of flesh.  The insatiable demand for more started to get to their nerves.   

The last straw came when that grizzled dark-haired photographer pointed at Rey. “S-spread those thighs for Daddy!”  

“Sod off,” Rey raised her head and exclaimed indignantly.  Her outburst of emotion overtook the necessity of subterfuge and the odious photographer was able to capture her half-hidden face.

“That’s it, little one!”

“Bugger off, you worthless excuse of a buck,” refusing to utter his formal designation the moment his stifling odour blasted into the night air. She raised her purse again to hide the rest of her face.

He leaned in and drew a deep breath to smell her and leered, “That wasn’t too bad eh, you s-sweet little girl!”

“Bastard,” Finn mumbled, scowling protectively.  From his tense shoulders and rigid jaw, Rey sensed he was tempted to walk over and give the man more than a piece of his mind.  

“Hey Peanut, shhh, relax,” Rey wrapped her arms loosely around Finn, carefully turning her back against the photographers. “Please, let’s not make a scene.” He shoved his hands on his trouser pockets. “Finn,” Rey whispered, her hands lightly caressing his forearms, “it’s either we go forward or we go home.” It was the best opportunity for them to retreat; take her phone out, open the app and spirit away from the party to the safety of their apartment.

“To our safe, small, boring apartment?  No.” Finn shook his head. “No, mate. Let's not go home yet.” Shaking his head out of his straightened his shoulders. “You look absolutely smashing; I don't want it all go to waste.”

“Fine,” Rey conceded.  “Better behave then. I did not go through the torture of being waxed and trimmed like a bloody topiary to back out now!“  

“Then don’t give me any ideas when you wear a dress with a split the size of the Grand Canyon,” Finn chuckled, his good humour returned. “Thanks, Peanut, I needed that. Besides, what would we do at home? Nothing’s new on Netflix.”

Rey and Finn arrived together with no frazzled assistant or intern, towed in to answer questions, carry bags or to adjust their attire.  It also meant they had no assistance from the harassment they received from the throng of photographers.  Salvation came in the form of two unobtrusive guards. They were manning the entrance and saw a glamorously dressed couple and from the commotion their arrival created assumed they needed assistance.  Rey and Finn were promptly ushered towards the threshold.  The collective roars of protest from the photographers at their hasty withdrawal were mercifully muffled by the time they entered the enclosed passageway that lead to the Great Hall.

Thinking on his feet, Finn took advantage of the guard’s guile.  “Take us quickly to the hall,” he requested in his approximation of an upper-class British accent.  ‘We’re already late as it is.”  

The crisply uttered words miraculously did the trick.  “Right this way, sir,” The guard nodded and escorted them to the front of a small queue.  An usher was greeting the other belated guests and tapping her fingers efficiently against her tablet. They could hear her polite requests for invitations and proper identification.  

Putting on a dazzling smile, Finn ushered Rey forward. “Watch and learn my ways, apprentice,” Finn joked under his breath.

“I didn't know I needed a teacher.”  

The usher, a petite dark-haired woman, did not bat an eyelash when the guard allowed Rey and Finn to cut in the queue.  Despite the riskiness of their endeavor, Rey felt the soothing effects the usher’s cool, clean scent.  Her neutral odor is something that workers in Rey’s profession have appreciated and emulated for its calming effect.

She greeted the couple and asked to see their invitation.  Finn handed the envelope with a slight flourish. “Hello there, Miss,” Finn greeted the usher with a wink. “Are you also a guest this evening?”  A pleasant giggle escaped the woman's lips, her cheeks pink with pleasure.  She shook her head and took the outstretched invite to peruse.

Rey was silent during the light-hearted exchange, busy murmuring a litany of broken prayers in between choice swear words. Promising works of piety in exchange for the usher not to catch on the fact that Norville Snoke and the attractive young man before her are not one of the same.

Finn knew he had to close the deal before she got any ideas.  He leaned over and purred, “Is something the matter, little love?”   One never stood a chance when Finn was this attractive and charming. The fullness of his scent is a fruit at the height of ripeness, ready to be plucked and savoured.

“N-no. I just need a moment, sir,”  the usher stammered, entranced by Finn’s handsome qualities and his natural irresistible aroma.  Finn exploited the usher’s distraction to look over her tablet and tap the screen.  “There, that’s me and my plus one here.”  

“But I -”

“You’ve seen their invitation, Rose.  Let them in and attend to the other guests,” the guard ordered.

“Uhm, yes. Yes.” Rose gave their invitation back and waved them along.  “Have a pleasant evening.”  Finn caught Rose’s hand and planted a wet kiss. “Would love to stay and chat, but our friends are waiting.”

“You’re overselling it, man,” Rey harangued through gritted teeth.  Finn straightened up and gave a final wink before marching ahead.

Rey, Finn, and the other bedecked guests crossed the threshold and entered into a corridor that will lead them to the Great Hall. The hall to where the ball was being held was metres away, but its passageway possessed a grandeur unto itself that it can hold up a party on its own. Slate-hued walls of brick loomed over the assemblage with columns in the classical design attached on each side of the walls. The evenly spaced pillars supported graceful arches, enclosing the space and protected those who pass through it from the weather and other intrusive elements.

A wide, crimson-colored carpet covered the narrow stone floor, its plush texture muffled the footfalls of the incoming, with muted LED lights placed on each side of the carpet to guide the way.  Strategically placed in the middle was a stained glass window that provided soft, sympathetic nighttime illumination.

Those within the ornate corridor spoke in a tone barely higher than a whisper, reluctant to break its contemplative and reverent mood. Most of the invited glided to the Great Hall but a few loitered to preen and primp. They galloped to and fro like a fashion plate on the runway, calling attention to themselves while observing the others on the sly.   

It didn't take long for their hidden, appraising observance to note that Rey and Finn are wading their way through the narrow corridor.  The cold has melted the last of the snow and awoke the beasts of prey from their winter sleep. The duo's irresistible essences ignited a blaze that spread amongst the throng. A mysterious, elusive quality to the twosome begged to be caught and possessed.  

These beasts, long denied sustenance, had sniffed fresh, new prey.  The stragglers attempted to start a conversation with the usual banalities.  Rey didn’t allow them to break their stride.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, Peanut?”   

“Our ‘friends’ are waiting, remember?”  Rey reminded Finn and continued to pull him forward and zigzaged through the plush red carpet.   

Not wanting to offend or cause a scene, however, Finn murmured a polite greeting, gave a curt nod or bestow a short, distracted smile along the way. They bolted until they reached the bottom of a steep, carpeted stairway that would lead them to the Great Hall.

“Seems to go on for ages,” Finn grimaced, his glances going between Rey’s shod feet and the sharply ascending steps.

“I can hear my toes already screaming in protest,” Rey whimpered, sounding like a wounded animal.  

“Why you ladies wear those torture devices, I’ll never know.“

“Apparently, it enhances a female’s ‘sex-specific attributes’,” Rey explained as though diagnosing a medical condition, her fingers making the universal symbol for air quotes.

“So are your...attributes feeling sexy?”  

“If throbbing, pinching pain from my toes is the usual symptom then yes, I feel properly sexy!”  

Finn bit back a laugh, not wanting Rey to think he finds any amusement in her discomfort.  “I think _they_ invented heels so you females don’t slip away easily.”   

Rey had no arguments for that.  “I suppose there’s a lift to take us up somewhere?” She enquired, scanning hopefully for a pair of metal doors to magically appear.

Finn shook his head. “Not your lucky day, Peanut. We go up old school.”

He let Rey dictate the pace of their climb, mindful of her poor toes, letting other guest pass ahead of them. They ascended at a leisurely pace, pausing once in a while to touch and admire the elegant foliage that were pinned along the walls on opposite sides of the stairs. Each arrangement showcased specimens of every shade of green imaginable, all cleverly arrayed to look as if they had always been allowed to grow and thrive in an urban environment.

Rey breathed in the cool, earthy bouquet of fresh greenery. “Maz would’ve loved seeing this.” Finn kept his silence but Rey could see how the mention of Maz affected him, the wet shine in his eyes showcased by the gilded mask he wore. She took out her phone and took a picture of the foliage to show Maz later on.  They ascended in companionable silence, their thoughts far away as they lingered on the memories of their rascally and loving foster mother.

Wrenched back to the present as they reached the top of the stairs, the duo paused where a queue had begun to form before a body scanner, manned on both sides by security guards. Both sentries possessed the requisite physiques and wore identical soured expressions. They could easily have passed for twins had it not for their comically extreme height difference; one being squat as a tank and the other a looming tower of a man.

Rey and Finn glanced at the taller guard with veiled nervousness.  As they neared to the end of the queue, Finn saw Rey taking short, rapid breaths. “I shouldn't have drank that pre-funk cocktail at home,” Rey squeaked in between pants.  

“Now you're sounding a lot less like a bored socialite and more like a wheezing donkey on its last legs,” he teased.

Her eyes narrowed behind her fancy mask. Shifting weight from one foot to the other she wailed in discomfort, “Where's a bloody bathroom when you need it.”

“I think there's one after we pass security,” Finn whispered. Placing a hand over Rey’s bare shoulder he reassured her, “Relax, Peanut.  It’s just a body scanner.”

Rey chewed her bottom lip, lost in her thoughts. “I know I'm being silly, but what if they ask to see the invitation again?”  Finn remained quiet, letting her vent off some of her steam.  “What if that Monster -” she spoke well out of earshot, “Tosses us out?” Her fidgeting and high pitched tone continued to escalate by degrees. “Damn it Finn, what if... What if they arrest us? We'll go to prison… our visas - ”

Finn shushed with a finger on Rey’s lips.  “What are you talking about?!” He shook Rey’s shoulders, her mask trembled and glittered in the spring night.

“I can’t shrug it off, Finn!” Rey shrilled.  “Didn’t you hear I mentioned prison?”

“Could you just get a grip for a minute? We can do this!” Finn hissed.

“ _Is something wrong, Miss_?”  The squat guard butted in.  Rey and Finn jumped out of their skins, alarmed but unsurprised by how quiet and stealthily the guard moved.  A look of worry passed between them.  

“Nothing sir, it’s fine,” Finn swiftly reassured the guard.  The guard looked unimpressed.  Finn snaked his arm over Rey’s waist. “Everything’s just peachy.  Right, Peanut?”

Rey was well aware how they look together.  They may see each other as friends and equals, but their opposing gender and complexions have coloured the outside world’s perception of their relationship, especially for two of their kind.  Words like _selfish_ and _unnatural_ were thrown in their direction.      

“Yes, Peanut, everything’s great.  Just excited,” Rey beamed, diffusing anything that could jeopardise their plans.

The guard grunted and left the pair alone.  “That was too close,” Rey expelled a breath of relief.

Finn nodded.  “Let’s keep our shit together, yeah?” With their turn nearing, they needed to maintain a cool, controlled persona.

Keeping his voice steady, Finn reminded his partner, “Just take a deep breath for me?” Rey closed her eyes and obeyed, drawing in a deep, calming breath.

“Deep breaths, yeah,” she echoed, drawing those words like a mantra to chant her way to relaxation.

Their progress was halted when the gigantic guard stopped them mid-stride. “You,” She gestured for Finn to come closer, “submit yourself for inspection.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the ladies of the The Writing Den, you continue to inspire! 
> 
> And to PastelWonder, I apologise in advance lol.

 

 ______________________________

 

Rey’s pink lips formed an O of surprise when she heard the commanding voice of the towering guard.  Head tilted, she took a discreet sniff.  The towering guard was a woman! _And a Dominant_!  Rey was taken aback, hoodwinked by the close-cropped blond hair, icy blue eyes and dark business suit.  The blond’s strong, pungent stench overwhelmed all others.  She was careful with her money but Rey has no second thoughts wagering that beneath her serviceable outfit, the lady was packing heat.  

Rey’s initial fascination turned to dread when the female guard waved Finn to come closer.  She choked back a whimper threatening to escape, a sick feeling grew at the pit of her stomach.  She tightened her grasp, protective instincts loathing to release him to the mercies of this Teutonic Neanderthal.  Finn sensed Rey's swirling emotions with her tense grip. “It’s all right, love. I can handle this.”  After a comforting squeeze, he released her hand from the cradle of his arm.  Rey fell back, her hands balled into tight fists, willing her thundering heart to slow back to normal. She welcomed the sting of her nails digging into her tender palms; it centred her, forcing her from giving into her inner voice to grab Finn and flee.  With nothing else to do but wait, Rey unfurled her fists and yanked the split of her gown in an effort at modesty and adjusted the straps of her dress.  She crossed her arms and tapped her right foot to the beat of the music emanating from the Great Hall.  

Finn adjusted his own attire and turned his head up and down, side to side, a prize-fighter warming up to meet his superior opponent.  When Finn cannot delay any longer, he marched to where the burly guard was waiting.  He behaved in a deliberate yet cautious fashion, a busker for coins with a pocket full of party tricks on how to charm a dangerous serpent.  He stopped at arm’s length and tipped his head, posture erect and face relaxed, friendly and charming. “Ma'am,” the greeting left his expressive lips laced with his usual charm.  Unlike his playful banter with the usher, however, his acknowledgment of the lady guard was uttered with a hint of deference. He hoped this gesture mollified the guard’s dominant instincts.

The woman’s granite profile didn’t give anything away.  She appraised Finn in silence, her scrutiny insouciant to the cut and color of his tailored suit.  The heat of her sharp ice-blue stare was otherwise focused on his fine silhouette.  Her glances lingered over his shapely thighs, trim hips and waist, and the widening flare of his torso and shoulders, resting over the smoothness of Finn's handsome face.  Her examination was icily intense and he lost some of his cool; nervousness and self-preservation took over, his tongue darted and flicked nervously over his parched lips. The unconscious response ramped up her ravenous interest and she leaned over until a hair's breadth of space separated between them. The blonde tilted her head and indiscreetly dragged a deep breath to intercept Finn's irresistible fragrance.

“You smell divine,” Lady Guard growled, delighted by what she scented, her fully blown eyes half-lidded as she indulged in Finn’s redolence. “New to the city?”

Finn puffed in a breath.  “Been overseas, catching some rays,” Finn vaguely replied.     

“Oh?” She prodded, an unspoken command for Finn to elucidate.  

He was navigating a delicate, precarious tightrope:  the constant push to charm this woman’s pants off to gain entrance and the pull of sticking close to the edges of truth. People like Blondie have the uncanny ability to catch a liar. “The cold doesn’t agree with me,” shivering his shoulders for a touch of melodrama.

Her hands crept to yank him forward by his lapels when the shorter guard barked, “Phasma, what’s keeping you?” The rebuke jerked the tall guard out of her reverie, opening her half-lidded eyes, its irises now back to its normal shape.  Her hands recoiled, growling and snapping at the other guard for interrupting her moment with Finn.  Short Round was undeterred. “Wrap it up!”  

The she-wolf, Phasma, drew a deep whiff for the final time and with a wave of her hand allowed Finn to enter. “How about my mate?” He hesitated and gestured over to Rey, cooling her heels and awaiting her verdict.  Phasma’s eyes widened, her sharply assessing scrutiny hovering between Finn and Rey.  Watching her incredulity pass over her face caught Finn to the idea his endearment was misunderstood.   “No, no, it’s not what you think,”  he shook his head and clarified, “‘mate’ is _Australian_ for ‘buddy’.”  Phasma’s face maintained a doubtful expression as she shot Rey a distracted and abrupt once-over.  Her scrutiny of Rey is quick but clinical, assessing whether her appearance and wardrobe would blend in with the hallowed guests.  

The night was still too early for Rey’s scent to do its magic; she felt in her bones this final hurdle could go either way.  Finn held the same doubts. He discreetly leaned over Phasma’s personal space to murmur seductively, “I’ll keep a tight leash on her, I promise.”    

Phasma attempted to giggle, though what came out of her mouth was a deep, chesty rumbling sound.  “I’ll see you later, gorgeous,” she promised, turning on the scanner.  

“Not till I see you first,” Finn managed to get the last word before passing through the metal bars, followed closely by Rey. The scanner stayed blissfully silent. Both muttered a polite “Thank you” before scampering away.

Rey detected an alcove near the Great Hall’s entrance, leading to three bathrooms.  Each bathroom door marked with a singular gold symbol in an ancient alphabet.  She spotted the door stamped with their dome shaped symbol and, after a cursory whiff, the pair scurried inside.  Bright lights and inoffensive background music combined with subtle trimmings inside the facility were designed to envelop the user in a cocoon of safety.  A cove to anchor themselves before sailing into the proverbial storm.  

She was oblivious to the carefully curated surroundings as Rey skipped inside and slammed her purse on the marble counter.   “That could have gone tits up!”

Finn unhooked the elastic bands securing the mask from his ears, shoving the scrap of fabric inside his trouser pocket for safekeeping.  “Relax, all we need to do now is enjoy!”  He checked his reflection in the mirror, running his palms on the sides of his head, waiting for his companion to calm down.

She paced the interior of the toilette, a wild creature used to the open plain and fraught with restless energy.  “I’m getting too old for this shit,” Rey admitted shakily.

 _And I’m too old to roll my eyes._ He is of the opinion those mannerisms are reserved for passive aggressive teenagers.  Yet here he is, breaking his own rule by rolling a hundred and eighty.  ”Your eyes felt young enough to thirst on your dress!”     

 _It wasn't just the dress you were thirsting for, was it?_  Rey was jerked into a standstill, shaking her head to erase her unbidden thought. She threw her wayward mind off by using the mirror and taking out a tube of gloss from her purse.  “I dunno, Finn,” she applied the product on the bow of her lower lip and smacked her lips together.  “Guess my eyes are bigger than my brain.”

Finn went over to her side and wrapped his arms around her, staring at their reflections in the mirror.   “Wait till you see people’s eyes popping out of their sockets and boners popping out of trousers when they see _you_.” A visual of the guests’ exaggerated lusting over her made both erupt in fits of giggles.  He fished out his mobile from his back pocket and took quick selfies, preserving in digital their faces of relief and mounting excitement.

Rey grabbed his mobile, swiping its screen and smiling fondly at the their random photos.  Memories of their travelling years were saved inside an electronic device small enough to fit into the palm of their hands.  She tapped and zoomed in to gaze at their recent photo.  “Can you believe we actually got in?” Rey murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

He grunted and pumped his fist. “Told you I could!” Finn crowed in triumph. “My milkshake could curdle under the sun and it would still bring the boys to the yard.”  Finn wasn’t being vain.  Women like Rey are rare and desirable.  Men like Finn are the unicorn.  Between the two of them, Rey suspected Finn would be the first to be snapped up and mated, should he be so inclined.

Rey returned his mobile and caught her reflection in the mirror.  Carefully peeling off the delicate mask, she saw her made-up face in full view.  She noted each feature: an open face and high, wide forehead.  A sharp jawline balanced by the flushed plumpness of her high cheekbones.  Smooth and even light golden-brown skin, unbroken by any unsightly tan lines.  A smooth and dewy complexion signalled the peak of her health and vitality, dotted by a smattering of tiny freckles along the bridge of her nose and under her almond-shaped hazel eyes.  Lips, while not overblown, are pink and firm.  

Her rank has designated her to be the one coveted and chased for their rarity and attractiveness.  She cannot argue about their rarity in numbers but she wrinkled her pert nose remembering how she looked like.  Even with this fabulous get-up and clever makeup Rey is ambivalent in her ability to attract, given her unorthodox features.   _I don’t need a magic mirror to ask if I’m the fairest one of all,_ Rey mused morosely.

Finn noticed Rey’s sudden change of mood.  “What’s on your mind, old lady?”

Rey took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving her reflection.  “I feel like an absolute fraud!”

“Tsk, Peanut.  Why do you say that?”  Finn waved her worry off.   

Rey shrugged, at a loss for words to express what she sees in the mirror is not the same person inside.  “What if people inside find out I’m not one of them?”

He declined to join in her pity party.  “Rey, this is who you really are.”

“I don’t go to work like this, hun.”   _Would he notice me if I did?_

“Peanut, it’s not the dress.  Or the make-up.”  Finn lightly patted her cheek.  “You aren't hiding in plain sight anymore.”

Sweeping down at her dress, with its barely there fabric, low-cut bodice and scandalous slit, a wry sound passed Rey’s lips.  “With a gown like this I'm barely hiding.”

He ignored her self-deprecating remark.  “Don’t you realize how long ago since I smelled your true scent?”  

It was a hard sell but Rey was convinced to ditch her scent blocker tonight.   _Put your hair down for once, Peanut.  Swish and flick your tail and who knows who you might snog at midnight?_ “What do I smell like?” Rey wondered.     

Finn quickly admired the pattern on the bathroom flooring.  “Don’t get pissed.”  

“When have I ever been angry?”

“Eh, the night is young.”  

“Well?” Rey insisted.  

He inhaled deeply, drawing in more of her.  “You,” Finn stepped away for good measure, “smell like soap.”

“WHAT?” Rey couldn’t believe her ears. Did Finn compare her scent to an inconsequential item like a bar of _soap_?

Finn raised his hands in appeasement.  “But like, quality!”  He noticed the skin between Rey’s brows wrinkling and her jaws were set rigid.   _Time to turn on the charm, Trooper_.  “You know, the fancy ones you get at Christmas!”

“They show up as ‘unwanted gifts’ on ebay,”  Rey noted acidly, arms crossed in her chest.    

Finn was spared from another set of verbal tirades when the bathroom door was opened by a stunning, delectable female, enrobed in a floor-length pale crepe gown which covered her form from neck to toe.  The long sleeves and severe design was reminiscent of a nun’s habit. Highly debatable any order with a vow of chastity would wear a habit from a fabric clinging to the body like a jealous lover.  Her hair was twisted in a tight bun, highlighting the choker made of beaten gold wrapped around her slender neck.  Wide bracelets of the same golden material graced both of her wrists.  Other than her smoky eye make-up, the rest of her face was done to a minimal.  In spite of the severity of her dress, everything in this woman screamed wealth and understated luxury.

The woman flashed the couple a friendly smile, sashaying between them to use the middle sink.   She dropped an object on the marble counter.  Its flexible, rubberized material produced a soft _thunk_ when it hit the solid surface _,_ the sound echoing within the confines of the enclosed space.  “Interesting choice,” Finn’s brows lifted at the sight of the eyeless, lifeless mien. “Got it at the fishmongers?”  Indeed, this beautiful specimen chose to wear a full face fish mask.  Not the colorful or charming variety found on aquariums or children's cartoons. It was the unappealing face of a drab, bug-eyed and slack-jawed deep sea carnivore.

The newcomer saw his reaction in the mirror.  “I know, right?  Makes a hell of an impression.” She turned to Finn and held out her hand. “I’m Korr Sella, by the way.”

He absentmindedly shook Korr’s hand, his eyes roamed over her fine, delicate features and coloring, so similar to his own. “I’m Fi -” he flubbed. Eyes widening as he nearly gave away his real name to a stranger. “I’m fine!”

Korr’s delicate brows drew together. “Your name is Fine?”

Finn released his hand and massaged the back of his neck. “Uh, no. No, I’m not Fine,” he prattled nervously.  

“Are you all right?” Korr enquired, her tone worried.

Finn heard Rey groan in disgust.  “I mean, I’m _fine_. It’s just not my name,” he reassured.  Behind the alluring woman, Rey did a neck-cutting gesture, a warning to Finn to stop babbling and make up a name, _stat_.

 _Don’t you dare fucking say James Bond,_ Rey shuddered at the thought of him choosing an amateurish monicker.

He took a deep breath to start again, taking precious seconds to come up with a secret identity.  Eyes twinkling, he finally held out his hand. “Hi, Korr.  I’m Hansel.”

Both ladies snorted.  Thankfully, Korr was game and took Finn’s hand once again.  “Pleased to meet you, _Hansel_.”  They continued to shake hands, eyeing up each other’s attractiveness.  A discreet cough broke the spell and their connected limbs.  They giggled like children caught in the middle of being naughty.  

“Pardon me.” Remembering his manners, Finn delivered the introductions with a flourish of a hand. “This is my little sister, Gretel,”        

“Of course! I see the resemblance,” Korr replied, not bothering to hide her mirth. The ladies shook hands.  “Pleased to meet you, Gretel.”   

“Pleasure,” Rey’s winced at her succinct and curt greeting.  Her abrupt tenor was not out of jealousy to the instant reaction between these two attractive people.  Her upbringing made her wary of strangers, especially strangers Rey has nothing in common with.  

Korr’s manners were too ingrained for her to be worked up by Rey’s abrupt salutation.  When no other greeting was forthcoming, she broke the awkward silence by focussing on her likeness in the mirror.  “I can gather from your lovely accents you are not from here.”   

“Came here a couple of months ago,” Finn confirmed.

“I know it’s belated, but welcome to the city. So excited to see, _and smell_ , something new.”  

“It’s a masquerade party, that’s very exciting surely?” Rey asked.

Korr wrinkled her nose. “Not really.  You meet the same old shit as previous.  I love your dress,” referring to Rey’s gown, “and nicely styled too.  A goddess of spring.”

An unladylike sound passed through her mouth.  “What a load of crack!” Rey gawped, realising too late after she blew her a rude greeting she swore at Korr unkindly. “I am so very sorry!”

Finn blasted Rey a side-eye. “Yeah, you have to excuse my..little sister over there,” he apologised.  “A goddess she may be, but her mouth is utter filth.”

“I am not a potty mouth, you beast! Take it back!”  Rey demanded; Finn ignored her demands and blew her a raspberry.

Korr casually observed the banter between the pair.  She noted the easy camaraderie she suspected can only come from years of companionship.  “So. ..you’ve know each other long?” Korr queried, curious as to the relationship between the pretty woman and her handsome escort.

Rey and Finn were unsure how to proceed.  How do they explain, to this glamorous woman, a life of abandonment and deprivation as wards of the state?  They were the lucky ones, and were fostered by a woman of great compassion and strength? To have relied upon each other from the time they were fostered till the present day?

“We have known each other since we were teenagers,” Finn carefully divulged.  

“Shouldn’t be long ago, is it?”  Korr teased, eliciting soft laughters from Rey and Finn.  “I apologize.  I really shouldn’t put my nose in other people’s business,” Korr carried on, twisting her torso to inspect the pleats of her dress.   

“No offense taken,” Rey reassured eager to make up for her earlier behavior.

“It's not like people haven’t speculated before -,” Finn added his two cents’ worth.

“- and their speculation is always way off the mark,” Rey finished.

“People will always speculate, poke and pry.  And pry they will,”  Korr eyed the pair, her animated face becoming taut and sombre.  She pushed on, her voice softer and quieter. “People see my parents and then me, like I was this cuckoo who raided their nest.”

Rey and Finn looked over each other at the mirror, their sensitive emotions attuned to her implied admission.  Maybe she wasn’t so different from them after all?

Korr quickly dispelled the wet blanket her quiet revelations caused.  “Remember, Hansel and Gretel,”  Korr cautioned.  “Stick close together inside the forest, or the big, bad wolf will eat you!” She hooked her hands like the claws of a wolf and wrapped it around Finn’s forearm.

Finn let out a fake wail of alarm.  “Oooh, please, please, Master, don’t eat me!” Finn pleaded in a sing-song voice.

“Never, you’re mine to devour,” Korr snarled for dramatic effect.

“I think you got the fairy tales mixed up.  Hansel and Gretel were captured by a witch,”  Rey corrected the play-acting pair.  “It was Little Red Riding Hood who was with the wolf.”

“Ugh, go make up your own fairy tale!” Finn pooh-poohed.

 _You bet your ass I did_ , Rey brooded.  Staring in the mirror she could see in her mind’s eye the face prominent in all her fantasies of late: _lips red as the rose, hair black as ebony, skin white as s-_

“What are you doing?”  Finn asked.

“Nothing,” Rey shrugged, reattaching her silver mask to hide the leftover emotions her little fantasy trip conjured.  “Just practising my sexy face.”

“It’s the face you make when we order your favorite pizza.”

Rey pulled a face, sticking her tongue out.  

“Hold it!”  Hands on his mobile, Finn took some more pictures.

“Do you want me to take your photo together?” Korr asked politely.

Rey and Finn shook their heads.  “Why don’t we take all take a selfie?”  

Korr nodded in agreement.  “On one condition.  I hope... I hope we all could get to know each other better, but let’s start after midnight!”

There was a laden pause before Rey offered her hand.  “You have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Finn and Rey make new friends, have a good time, and then go home at the stroke of midnight. I kid, I kid. Like the song says, Rey meets Prince Charming (again), but she won’t know it’s him till Chapter 3.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, glad to see you again! Apologies for the slow, erratic updates. Hopefully, once I get the hang of writing again I can update at a more frequent pace.
> 
> I cannot do this without the help and support of the members of The Writing Den and of CoP. Thank you so much for your words of encouragement.

 _________________________________

“I've never seen so much green inside a building before!”  Rey giggled and whirled like a dervish, allowing herself be swept in a fantasy of Mother Nature reclaiming this man-made, sterile space.  She would often pause and gawp, marvelling how an empty ballroom was transformed into a rich, verdant forest at night time. 

 

From the corner of her eye, Rey caught Finn holding his mobile filming her antics.  “Smile for the camera, Peanut!”  Unlike her earlier recalcitrance with the hoard of photographers, she readily complied, beaming and waving while he faithfully captured her likeness as she flitted from one new discovery to another.  Her graceful actions and face were undimmed by the flat, impersonal surface of the screen. She craned her head, distracted by the fairy lights strewn haphazardly all over the covered ceiling.  Rey grinned wistfully; from her distance, they twinkled like the stars one hitched their wishes on.  Her eyes roamed lower over marbled columns hidden as trees, with low-lying plants and polystyrene boulders sticking out and crowding the base of each artificial trunk.   

 

Rey was admiring a delicate reed when a solid mass bumped into her shoulder, tipping her form slightly forward.  He was a tall, dark-haired man.  Her heart briefly sputtered; blood sprang through her veins in a mighty rush, restarting the sputtering organ to beat faster and stronger.  She tried to swallow but her airway felt constricted.  When the man turned abruptly to apologize, she found the face of a stranger.  The pocket of air lodged in her throat was released.  Rey nodded sharply, indicating she was all right.  The man nodded back, Rey already a forgotten figment as went his way and joined his partner.    

 

Finn ended the video and rushed to her side.  “You okay, Pea?” 

 

The adrenaline carrying her through the night has seeped away.  Her earlier enchantment quickly forgotten, replaced with a jittery anxiety, like a feline in a room full of rocking chairs.  Rey shook her head, a tight, over bright smile wreathing her face.  “No harm done.  Could you check my dress?”  She turned around, hoping to divert Finn and give herself a moment’s peace.  Taking a weighted breath, she refused to process whether she’s relieved or disappointed at this temporary reprieve. 

 

“Looks good at this end.  Jesus, who knew this piece of fluff could be indestructible?”

 

“Like a superhero costume?”  Rey teased. 

 

A wide grin split his face, creases of skin framing the sides of his generous mouth.  “Hope your costume hold up the rest of the night!  I might need to hang on to your train if we need to get out of here.”               

 

Rey wrinkled her nose and playfully stuck her tongue out.  With nothing else but half-cooked ideas and an edgy anticipation of what was to come, Rey busied herself with any mundane task springing to her mind.  “Any sign of her?”

 

“Nah, I don’t think she’s here yet, Peanut.”  

 

“Who are we looking out for?”  Korr butted in. 

 

“A witch, and I’m being generous,” Finn replied.

 

“Does the witch have a name?”

 

“Bazine,” Rey and Finn spat out in unison.  Rey felt a surge of guilt, fearing her irrational impression of Bazine has colored his own.  She had no good reason to harbor negative emotions as far as Bazine was concerned.  They had limited interaction during her client's convalescence.  Sure, Rey was treated little more than old furniture, but Bazine was neither cruel nor abusive when Rey was at her father’s employ.  A small voice inside her head poked at her ramblings: _you know why_.  Rey quickly drowned it out.  There are some people who you irrationally dislike, she justified, and there was something about Bazine rubbed Rey the wrong way.  

 

“Ahh...know the witch, by name and reputation,” Korr snorted, nodding her head sagely. “She'll be with someone I know. Tall, massive man.  You won’t miss him.”

 

_Yes, he's the reason why you're jealous of Bazine_.  Rey threatened bodily harm if inner voice refused to shut up.  It cackled maniacally.  She was in the middle of imagining choking the air out her inner voice’s windpipe when a smiling couple approached them. Korr introduced the elderly pair as her parents. In turn, she introduced Rey and Finn using their assumed names. The older couple thought nothing of the unusual names, thinking the attractive couple to be eccentric young celebrities maintaining a certain persona.  

 

Seeing the countenance of the elderly couple compared with Korr’s, Rey was able to connect the dots.  Like her and Finn, Korr was adopted.  From their warm, soothing voices, however, Rey could detect their love for their “little starfish” as if she was their own.  The introduction was the subtle signal and a crush of guests followed, eager to meet and admire the stunning trio.  Finn and Korr were the more animated, enthusiastic pair.  Rey stood in contented silence, occupying herself with a procession of finger food and champagne, savoring each delectable piece and sparkling glass.  Her unconscious delight of this party’s repast didn’t go unnoticed and the group began to be intrigued by this mysterious silver goddess.

 

“Is it Italian made?”  A woman enquired, while Rey was in the middle of nibbling into a salmon blinis.  Blasting herself for forgetting to ask the stylist the name of the designer, Rey played it safe. “Beg pardon, I have no idea.”

 

“It must be Italian,” another guest chirped in, malice dribbling in her voice. “They really cross the line between fashionable and sleazy.”  

 

She couldn’t care less who designed her gown but took exception to was the insulting insinuation. Her instinct was to retort and defend herself.  Alas, she was in a gathering out of her depth and out of her comfort zone.  Choosing to fight another day, she tampered down her temper and plastered a polite smile.  “I feel beautiful in it.”

 

The malicious sounding lady wasn’t satisfied with Rey’s vague reply, though her biting remarks were drowned out by an excited murmur spreading through the herd. The buzz heralded the arrival of another couple.  The crowd milling near the entrance of the ballroom parted like the Red Sea when a woman entered, her narrow limb hooked on the arm of a towering, dark-haired man.  She was poured into a floor length turtleneck black gown, the slinky black material hugging the curves of her body. She wore a harlequin mask which emphasized her Cheshire cat grin. Her escort was likewise in black, the tailored suit fitting his broad-shouldered frame impeccably; a mask of the same dark hue completed his attire.  He remained on the spot, still and blank as stone, save for the twitch of irritation on those plush, crimson lips.

 

“Bazine,” Finn and Korr jeered.

 

_Ben_ , Rey thought dreamily.

 

The newly-arrived Bazine blithely ignored the greetings heaped upon her, tightening her possessive hold over her escort’s arm.  Her partner didn’t have her conceit, returning every greeting with a polite nod or a succinct reply.

 

Finn snorted.  “I know there’s a thing called fashionably late, but this is just rude.”

 

“She always wants to make a grand entrance.  She went one year dressed as Cleopatra.  She wrapped herself in a carpet and hired actors dressed as servants to unroll her in the middle of the ballroom,” Korr tattled.     

 

“Should’ve entered the ballroom tonight swinging on vines.  Who’s the arm candy?”  Finn asked, sipping his drink.

 

“Ben Solo,” Rey blurted.  Finn wheezed indelicately, the bubbles of the alcohol he was consuming went up the wrong way.  Korr, in her full fish mask, snapped her head in amazement.

 

“You know him, Peanut?”  Finn choked in between sharp coughs.

 

Rey stalled for time to answer his pointed question.  “Here, use this,” opening her purse and offered Finn a scrap of tissue.

 

Finn nodded his thanks and wiped liquid from his face and blotted any spilled droplets on his snowy white suit.  “Well?”

          

“I...Yes,” Rey bit her lip, a form of self-punishment and to prevent even more of her spilling out in the open.

 

“What have you been hiding from me?”

 

“For chrissake, it’s nothing,” Rey insisted, dismay written on her face.  Even Korr heard her say his name out loud.  “I’ll tell later.”  Desperate for a distraction, Rey called for a waiter to replace her flat drink with a fresh glass.  She consumed the drink in one gulp and hailed to request another.

 

“Hey, hey. A little respect for the vino,” Finn chided, placing his old glass on the server’s tray and plucking a fresh flute of drink of his own.  She should've known better than to let herself loose in a gathering full of total strangers.  A place where their kind is rare in number and the others are biding their time for the opportune moment to pounce.

  

“First of all, it’s not wine.  Second of all, it’s free?”

 

Placing a hand below his neck, Finn took in a sharp intake of air.  “Well, pardon my intrusion.”  With the nonchalance of an individual used to Rey’s outbursts, he changed the subject.  “Wanna go and circulate?”

 

Rey shook her head.  “Uhm, my feet are still bothering me.”

 

“Then how would Ben Solo catch some of your quality fragrance?” Finn scoffed, baffled at Rey's newly acquired reluctance.

 

“Maybe later?”  She hedged, taking a leisurely sip of her glass as Rey took in her fill of Ben conspicuously beneath hooded eyes.  He sauntered deep into the ballroom with Bazine in tow.  To Rey's predisposed mind, they walked in a different manner from each other.  Bazine writhed and slithered, a limbless creature condemned to crawl the surface of the earth.  Ben prowled with the grace and economy of movement of an apex predator.

 

“He looks fine, I guess,” Finn remarked. 

 

Korr wrinkled her nose.  “If you like the brooding, somber type.”  The cluster of guests surrounding the glamorous threesome tittered at the arrival of Ben Solo escorting the daughter of his mentor.  Phrases of “old man at death’s door” and “him taking over the First Order” were whispered in hushed tones, lest their gossip carry over and be heard by their topic of discussion.  Questions such as “why are they not mated yet” were followed by “only a matter of time”.

 

“Have you made Mr. Solo’s acquaintance?”  One of the masked enquired.

 

Rey took a long sip of her glass; Finn squinted on his own, suddenly interested in the bubbles rising to the top of the clear liquid.  A significant silence hung in the air; Rey had to elbow Finn discretely, urging him to find a suitable answer.  “We're new in town,”  Finn waffled. 

 

“Oh, we should introduce you!”  Another in their gathering exclaimed.

 

Finn barked a sardonic laugh, craning his neck to view where Ben was wading his way through the middle of the ballroom, hampered by the number of guests eager to welcome his presence.  “I think Mr. Solo has enough acquaintances to last him through the night, don’t you agree?”  The crowd mercifully concurred and the subject was broached no more.   

 

Rey kept her thoughts completely to herself. She checked whether her mask is firmly in place, thankful it covered hungry eyes following the minutiae of Ben’s lithe and sublime progress.  His cameo profile was all she could see, his pale, handsome face dotted with a constellation of beauty marks.  Dreaming of her fingers touching and connecting those marks was enough for Rey’s heart to sputter and beat faster.  

 

Never has Finn seen her take a keen interest into the handsome man’s kind before.  Come to think of it, Rey has never taken in anyone this way before. Hey eyes followed him like a pair of sunflowers eagerly catching the rays of a blazing sun. “Better have more tissues, love, you’re positively drooling.”

 

“Ugh, I’m not,” Rey denied.  Her fingers traced on the edges of her lips, to be sure.  “I’m making sure Bazine doesn’t catch me.”

 

“Sure, and denial is not just a river in Egypt,” Finn ribbed, offering his used tissue.  She crumpled the soiled scrap of fabric and threw it on his face.  He laughed as he bent over to pick up the balled-up article.    

 

Rey blithely ignored his ribbing, continuing to follow Ben’s motions.  She giggled when she caught him wrinkling his patrician nose and grinding his smooth jaw, seemingly annoyed at the blast of music so close to his ears.  Ben regained his composure, nodding and shaking the hands of friends and acquaintances alike.  The depth and breadth of his stature meant he towered over most of the invited, even those of his kind.  He scanned the area like a king of this make-believe jungle, where everything he surveyed was his.  Predator and prey alike formed a beeline to pay homage, and he took them graciously as his due.  His companion for the night received some courtesy although not to a degree bestowed upon him.  Bazine doesn’t seem to mind; she reveled at the reflected glory of being with a man such as Ben Solo.              

 

Ben raised his nose, straining to catch the whiff of the scent seizing his interest, inhaling deeply and breathing out through his plump, plum mouth.  His long, elegant fingers reaching under his bowtie to loosen the choke-hold of his collar.  Bazine leaned over, presumably to ask what was bothering him. He dismissed her worries with a shake of his head.  He waited for Bazine to busy herself with receiving compliments from the gathered before continuing with his perusal.  Nothing escaped his keen observation.  Like most of his kind, Ben was delighted at the prospect of a chase, something to amuse him within the confines of a controlled, sedate, tedious atmosphere.  Most of the huddled masses are known to him. One irresistible trail of scent was tantalising and enigmatic.

 

His focused persistence was rewarded when he saw was an angel standing across the ballroom, dazzling in silver.  There was nothing angelic in her dress for it bared acres of sun-kissed skin to his avid gaze. Her healthy, glowing skin meant to be held and caressed.  Had Rey been blessed with the power to peer into his mind, she will find him envisioning his knuckles ghosting up her toned arms. How his lips would trail behind in hot pursuit; the blunt edges of his teeth worrying the smooth, unmarked juncture of her neck and shoulder. He fantasized his fingers toying with the delicate straps of her gown, dragging them down oh so slowly, unveiling the lushness of his goddess for him to worship.  

       

Rey felt the moment Ben beheld her presence.  Heat gathered at the pit of her stomach and radiated into her lower extremities, pooling at the juncture of her thighs. A chill went up her spine, stiffening her back and her dusky rose nipples.  Pink lips slightly parted to draw deep, panting breaths.  Her chest expanded and contracted at a rapid pace, her lungs suddenly demanding more oxygen.

 

Her rational consciousness disconnected with her physical body.  As a woman of science, with years of study and training behind her, she was proficient on the female form and all of its functions.  None of her years of study and training prepared her for the intensity of Ben's regard. 

 

In her hazy mind, Rey mused if she is the only one affected by the whole exchange.  Her question was answered when she saw him bite his full lower lip, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.  Rey rejoiced by how he is equally affected by her.  Never was she this close to unlocking her womanly power.  She already had the pieces; all she needed was the right motivation to complete the puzzle.  And her motivation was in the form of this towering creature, the best his kind had to offer.

 

They kept this little game close to the vest.  Gazes were steadfastly held and reluctantly broken, advanced and retreated in a heated, complicated dance; the accompanying music only Ben and Rey could hear.  Jealousy Rey denied to ever feeling now burned through like acid whenever Bazine’s thin hand crawled over his arm, diverting him so he could engage whoever needed his attentions.  On her side, Finn or Korr would try to include Rey in the conversation.  Discussions about the weather, travel, empty shop talk filling the void while everyone waited for the stroke of midnight.  Rey cared not one whit.  Ever the polite guest, however, when prompted she would nod and make the right noises.

 

Once the niceties were performed their gazes would always come back to one another, like moths to a flame.

 

Rey drank more than usual to keep herself occupied.  Several glasses of alcohol later she saw Ben cautiously shake his head from across the room, a clear and resounding order she has had enough for the night.  Rey should have known to show respect and deference, but her alcohol addled brain made her raise her chin in defiance.  Her little show of rebellion caused his generous lips to thin into a straight line.  She knew given the opportunity, he will make pay for her foolish stunt.

 

The party approached the midnight hour and the initial buzz has now plateaued to a restless anticipation.  The dee-jay sensed the lull and boredom and put on a fast number.  Everyone cheered and started to gather in front of the booth, bobbing their heads and moving their bodies to the beat of the music.

 

“Oh my God, this is my shit!” Finn excitedly swayed to the rhythm, turning his back and gyrated his way towards the DJ’s booth.  He hooked both index fingers, beckoning Rey and Korr to join him.

 

Rey glanced over the ballroom to catch Ben’s gaze on her.  She instinctively touched her neck, rubbing the area where her scent glands are located, sensual lethargy invading her limbs.  In her wild imaginings, her body seemed to float and levitate, moving to every pulse and beat.  Each graceful stride offered a generous peek of her tanned, toned thighs.  Her enticing movements were rewarded by another lick of those rosy lips and a slow, thorough once-over.

It was too much for Rey.  She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the power of the music.  Her movements were a beat slower, all the more for Ben to notice each swing and sway.  She threw her head back in abandon.  Raising her toned, bare arms in the air, it pushed her bosom into prominence.  Her deep bodice cantering up and down, teasing Ben glimpses of pink sensitive flesh.  She turned her back, waist slowly rotating, emphasizing the smooth flare of her hips and giving Ben an eyeful of her smooth, bare back.  

 

A cold bucket of water awoke Rey from her fantasy when a male pinched her butt and whispered, “Sorry, kitten.  A nice drink should cool the burn, hmm?”

 

“You didn’t need to apologize, I didn’t feel anything.” Rey retched a cold, polite excuse.  She edged away from the groping dominant when she felt her back bump into another.

 

Rey gagged at his oily scent.  Reeking of testosterone, alcohol and sliminess as he flirted, “Nice pair of legs; what time do they open?”

 

“Received a tip someone's going to bomb,” she snickered,”So they are on lockdown.”

 

“You ungrateful bi - ”

 

“Complete that sentence and I will make it my personal crusade that your next harassment suit sticks,” a low, menacing baritone strangled off the male’s abusive remarks.  Jesus Effing Christ, for a big man he sure moves fast, Rey admired.   

 

The offending dominant craned his head to stare up to his challenger.  “I scented her first, Solo!”  Ben refused to take the bait, inching closer like a raging thundercloud, his superior height looming and intimidating.  “Back. Off,” the lesser man grounded out, visibly threatened.  He shoved Ben away; his efforts to provoke proved futile.  Ben stood his ground, an impenetrable, immovable monolith. “Are you adding assault to the harassment?”  Ben asked, testing the other’s resolve.     

 

Those in close proximity stopped their revelry, mouths agape and heads rubbernecking at the tense scene.  Finn attempted to place a protective arm over Rey’s shoulders but Korr hampered his advances.  “That’d be unwise,” she warned in a low, stern, shaky voice.

 

Bazine held no similar reservations.  Always looking for drama, she inserted herself in the middle of the hulking bulls.  “Stay out of this,” Ben growled his command.  Bazine childishly stomped her feet.  It was a direct order; she had no choice but to obey.    

 

The loud, throbbing music playing in the background was all but forgotten.  These two dominants eyed each other like outlaws in front of an abandoned salon, tumbleweeds blowing in the dry, desert air.  Hooded eyes remain unblinking lest the other draw his weapon.

 

Rey was frantically watching both men trade silent threats.  Her breath came in a succession of short, jerky pants, drawing in not only the oily stench of the groping male, but the stronger, full-bodied scent of the man who she exchanged heated glances with across the ballroom.  Rey tried to step away from the fray when a dull, painful cramp assaulted her. She shrieked a cry of distress when she lost balance and tripped over the seam of her gown.  With the speed and stealth of a jungle animal, Ben grabbed her bare arm, preventing her fall.  What was fantasy for them now became carnal flesh.  A low, slow, needy moan flew from her lips, her skin immediately sensitized to the lightest of touches.

 

Ben’s close proximity sent her body into haywire.  He snaked his arm over her waist, pulling her near his wide, firm body, his lips lightly touching her temples.  Rey breathed through gritted teeth at the dull, persistent pressure throbbing in her belly.  The pressure came in waves, each throbbing intensifying exponentially, radiating from her womb to the place between her legs.  Rey was half mortified, half impressed, at the speed by which her aroused body produced copious amount of slick.  The silky, non-absorbent material of her panties caused her wetness to pool and gather.  She clamped her legs, horrified at the prospect of spilling her womanly essence over her borrowed gown or worse, the ballroom floor.  Rey could’ve sworn her ears picked up the wet sounds of her slick pushed into a smaller amount of space when she pressed her legs closer.  She groaned, pleading to the gods Ben’s heightened senses didn’t catch the squelching noises of her arousal.

 

Agony and bewilderment bombarded her mind.  Whatever sane part of her brain was still functioning, Rey knew she never missed a day. She was conscientious to the point of maniacal when it came to taking those little white pills, every day at the same appointed time.  It meant only one thing.  She was in a room of total strangers, in the arms of Ben Solo, experiencing a rare breakthrough heat.

 

He held Rey tightly in his arms, touching her smooth back a distant pleasure in his mind; his focus solely to ease her suffering by any means necessary.  “I’ve got you, my little firefly,” he crooned.  Rey was so sensitive to his physicality she could feel the rumble of his chest the moment he uttered those words.                    

 

Rey was beyond caring, her body clamoring for Ben to ease the gnawing hunger and need coursing through her veins.  She could only utter one, pathetic word, encompassing everything she was too mortified to say. “Pl-please,” Rey sobbed, holding on to him for dear life.     

 

He carried her gently in his arms, shushing her cries while raining soft kisses where his lips could reach soft, warm flesh. “I know, my sweet.”  Ben could hear the murmurs of the gathered audience. His keen hearing also caught the avaricious murmur of some of his kind, the vulgarity of their words directed at the precious cargo nestled in his arms.  He couldn’t care less what blarney the herd was gagging about.  His dominant, competitive instincts howled, demanding he assert his possession.  The keening, helpless mewls breaking away from her tightly held lips were all it took for Ben to change from predatory to protective.  He needed a place to take her, ease her suffering before spiriting her away to the privacy his home.

 

“May I be of assistance, Mr. Solo?”  The burly guard in a tux enquired, maintaining a safe distance, his tone even and respectful.

 

Ben didn’t think the guard was far enough.  “Don't come near and know your place!”  The guard bowed his head immediately in acquiescence. Mollified by the display of obedience, Ben gave the guard his clear, unambiguous instructions. “Clear that area. We are not to be disturbed.”

 

The guard sprang into action and unhooked the velvet rope.  “Of course, Mr. Solo.”  Ben didn't wait for the guard to complete his sentence and sought the cover and privacy the private space afforded.   

 

Finn stood impotently in the ballroom, helpless to prevent Rey from being taken into a metaphorical underworld, in the arms of a masked Hades clad in Armani.  

 

“Hey,” Korr shook his shoulder.  “Are you...alright?”

 

Finn pursed his lips, his thoughts were of fury was laced with worry for his best friend.  “Yeah, I’m good,” he retorted.  Between them, Rey was always the one who hemmed and hawed, the worry-wart who thought about the most inconsequential of things.  He was beating himself up, regretting to have agreed to this plan. A plan that has literally blown over the proverbial fan.

 

“I know you’re scared shitless for your friend,” Korr said, her comforting hand never leaving Finn’s arm.  “But if there’s anyone who she can be with in her...time, you cannot choose a better man than Ben.”

 

“Speaking from experience?”  Finn asked slowly, softly through gritted teeth.

 

“It’s a very unfair question to ask,” Korr replied.       

 

He closed his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”  A deep, mournful sigh escaped his generous lips.  “This was supposed to be just harmless good fun, you know?  Something to tell the grandkids about.”

 

From the booth, the hosts are whispering animatedly for the DJ to play something, anything to distract the guests still dumbfounded after the tense stand-off.  A synthetic, electronic tune blasted through the hidden speakers, a tune guaranteed to invite people to dance.  A few pairs swished awkwardly to the Euro-dance song.  Some scampered away from the loud noise, gripped by the desire to babble about the incident of a few minutes ago.  The rest were too inebriated to care.

 

Finn took out his phone to check for time; it was half the hour towards midnight.  With nothing else to do but wait for his friend to emerge from her little side trip with the Prince of Darkness, he straightened and gave Korr an open, honest look.  “Want me to tell you a story?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Next chapter_ : “Well, I'm guessing he wants to do a little dance...you know, make a little love...well, pretty much get down tonight!" - Chandler Bing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all your comments! They really are a writer's oxygen.
> 
> Hope you follow me on Tumblr: https://storiesinmyheadblog.tumblr.com
> 
> My eternal gratitude to my beta, anerdslife4me: https://anerdslife4me.tumblr.com


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